


Dr Cthulwho

by 6s_and_7s



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Alien Time Lords (Doctor Who), Amnesiac Eighth Doctor, Anthology, Dr Nyarlathotep, Earth arc, Gen, Iris Wildthyme is Shub-Niggurath, Lovecraft protagonists are jerks, Nightmares, Nonbinary Doctor (Doctor Who), Summoning Circles, because I said so, the Doctor is Nyarlathotep
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:15:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25518667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/6s_and_7s/pseuds/6s_and_7s
Summary: Anthology of eldritch Doctor Who stuff that's a bit too short to stand on its own. Updates irregularly and as the muse takes me.
Relationships: Donna Noble/Shaun Temple, Eighth Doctor & Iris Wildthyme, Ian Chesterton & First Doctor & Susan Foreman & Barbara Wright, Tenth Doctor & Donna Noble
Comments: 10
Kudos: 26





	1. The Dream-Quest of Donna Noble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A study of Donna Noble's dreams.

Donna Noble dreamt of monsters. Well, strictly speaking, she dreamed of  _ a _ monster, one that was very very old, very very large, and very very tired indeed. The monster had no name, no face, no gender, just a lot of tentacles that moved like quicksilver, eyes that shone like stars, and a grin sharper than any knife. They were too big to ever understand in a hundred years, but in her dreams, Donna understood them perfectly.

Sometimes, she was afraid of them. In her dreams, she ran and ran across barren rocks as the twin suns beat down overhead. It was hot enough to fry an egg on the ground, and Donna felt as though she would surely die of the heat at any moment, but she had to keep running or the monster would catch her.

But their tentacles were long and quick, and every time, she wound up in them, struggling and screaming as they gently brushed back her hair and lifted her up to their dark and tearful eyes -- and she awoke, screaming and sobbing, Shawn holding her and whispering in her ear that it would be alright, it would all be alright.

Those dreams were uncommon, though. Most nights, she and the monster were as close as could be. She would ride on its back as they flew among the stars, and she would swear if she wanted, she could reach out a hand and catch the glowing points of light like fireflies.

Donna would explore ancient cities in her dreams. She would wander through shadowy libraries, or bustling markets, or planets made of diamond. She would run and laugh and save the day, and for all their enormous size, the monster was right by her side the entire time, holding her hand and smiling at her with all the love and warmth in their vast hearts. 

She awoke in the morning feeling refreshed, really seeing the beauty in the world in ways she couldn’t ordinarily. Before breakfast, she might even slip on her trainers and go for a jog, reveling in the beauty of sunrise and birdsong.

The worst dream of all was also the rarest.

Sometimes Donna herself was the monster.

She was vast and beautiful and brilliant, and so lonely that she could drown in it. She ached with the sorrow of loss, a lonely sun in the vastness of space. But she kept going. Because sometimes, there were planets that orbited around her. Some flew off into space after a few rotations. Some crumbled, given time. Others’ orbits decayed, and they fell into her surface, dying in flame, and some were destroyed by her own solar flares.

On those days, she woke up in a pillow stained by her tears. She had learned not to look in the mirror for awhile after those sorts of dreams, because what she saw looking back at her, just out of view behind her head, was too achingly beautiful and sad to bear.

On those days, she wanted to go back to sleep forever, let the weight of the blankets smother the last burning ember of whatever it was that was haunting her mind. She never did.

On those days, Donna Noble combed her hair back. She put on something with pinstripes, went out, and did her damnedest to shout the world into being fair.


	2. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor explains themself to their humans.

“We must tell them sooner or later, Grandfather.”

“Must we indeed, my dear?” The Doctor frowned at their favorite grandchild. “They already know far more than they ought! Yes indeed, and rather more than I should like!”

She frowned at them. “Perhaps you should have let them leave, then, rather than taking off with them still onboard the Ship.”

The Doctor scowled, focusing their attention on the head of their cane, rather than Susan’s accusing eyes. She had a point, of course, but nonetheless…

“We wear these disguises for a reason, my dear,” they said. “You know how humans can be. You saw the fear and hatred based on skin pigmentation, my dear. Sexual orientation. Even such a trifling thing as… what did you say they called it? Gender.”

Susan looked down at her shoes. “Yes, Grandfather,” she admitted.

“Well, then,” the Doctor said, matter-of-factly. “Imagine how those humans might react to something truly alien, hm? As a schoolgirl and her grandfather, we are safe. As we truly are…”

Susan shuffled her feet, trying to think of how best to put her thoughts into words. “Grandfather, how would you describe our people?”

“Sanctimonious sticks in the mud with nothing better to do than stifle anything and everything with endless bureaucracy.”

“Would you describe you or I in the same way?”

“Of course not! We are travelers, exceptions to the rule.” They paused. “Ah. I see.”

“Oh, Grandfather, think of all the alien things they’ve already seen. They’ve adjusted so very well. They’re our friends, Grandfather! They would understand!”

The Doctor hesitated. Then their mouth set. “Absolutely not. I’m sorry, my dear, but I simply cannot allow a pair of humans to see us as we truly are, no matter how close we’ve grown! That Craftlove--”

“Lovecraft, Grandfather.”

“That’s what I said, my dear. He was proof enough that humans simply cannot be allowed to see our true forms!”

Susan looked stricken. The Doctor felt rather bad about that. Then they realized that she was looking past them towards the hallway door. “True forms?” Ian asked.

* * *

Some twenty minutes later, Ian and Barbara were sat together in a room of the TARDIS that neither of them had ever seen before. It was quite a nice room-- sort of a parlor, or perhaps a living room, though there were no windows, nor even a television set. Across from them, the Doctor and Susan sat in a pair of armchairs. The old man picked up a kettle of tea. “Would either of you care for a cup?”

“Yes, please,” Ian said.

“Well, I suppose so,” Barbara said. “Doctor, what exactly is this all about?”

“All in good time, my dear Barbara,” the Doctor said, pouring four cups of tea. “I had hoped never to have to tell you this. The tea will settle all of our nerves.”

It was quite true. The homey familiarity of the room and the routine practice of taking tea relaxed the atmosphere in the room considerably. After they had all finished sipping their tea, Ian turned back to the Doctor. “Now, what was it that you were going to tell us?” he asked calmly.

The old man tightened their grip on the armrests. “Shall I fetch out some biscuits?” they asked weakly.

“Grandfather…”

“Oh, very well.” The Doctor shut their eyes. “Susan and I are, as you know, not of your planet.”

“Well, of course,” Barbara said.

“Did you never wonder why, then, we looked so much the same?”

Ian frowned. “It is a little peculiar,” he agreed. “Perhaps it was a matter of convergent evolution? The Sensorites looked quite human as well, as did the Thals.”

“Convergent evolution!” The Doctor looked rather amused for a moment. “Mm, you’re more correct than you know, Chesterton. Oh my my. But no, not quite right. It was not mere coincidence how human we appear.”

“Then, why?” Barbara asked.

“It was by design.” The Doctor opened their eyes, and stars shone out.

The two humans drew back, shocked. The Doctor blinked again and turned to Susan. “You see? They’re frightened already. I told you they wouldn’t understand.”

Barbara recovered first. “We aren’t… frightened, Doctor. We’re only…”

“Surprised,” Ian said. “Please, do go on.”

The Doctor fixed them both with a glare. “You’re certain, hm?”

Barbara leaned across the table and put her hand over the Doctor’s. “We’re sure, Doctor.”

The old man looked at her hand resting on theirs. “Very well. But it would be easier to show you than to tell you.”

Barbara sat back as the Doctor rose and walked over to a more spacious area of the room. The old man stood very still for a moment. Their hands were wrapped tightly around the handle of their cane, shoulders hunched, head bowed. They might have been meditating, or else they’d fallen asleep standing up.

Ian began to say something, but Susan shushed him.

And then something happened. The Doctor was still standing there. But it wasn’t quite the Doctor anymore. It was someone, something else, glowing gold, with flowing tendrils surrounding it like halos. Inside of it, time flowed through in like sand through a glass. In the middle of all that, a single eye opened, glowing as blue as a gas-lamp flame.

_ Well, now. What do you think of me now, hm? _

Barbara blinked. “Doctor? Is that really you?”

_ And who else would it be, hm? Clara Barton? _

Ian let out a short laugh. “Yes, that’s the Doctor alright,” he said. “But what are you, Doctor? If that isn’t a terribly rude question.”

_ My people were known as-- hm. I believe  _ Time Lords _ will serve. We are beings of time, existing in dimensions higher than your own. _

“Time and Space, d’you mean?”

_ Precisely, my boy!  _ The Doctor sounded rather impressed. _ However did you work that out? _

“Something Susan once mentioned, back at Coal Hill.”

“Is it safe to touch you?” Barbara asked.

There was a long pause.  _ Do you know, I’m not sure. I don’t see why it wouldn’t be. _

She reached out. Ian reached out as well, to try and pull her back, but he hesitated, worried about how the Doctor might interpret that. Barbara ran her fingers through the cloud. It’s warm. A little scratchy, but mostly soft, like a woolly jumper.

There was a sort of a strange quivering sensation that ran through the room, and it took everyone a moment to recognize it as the Doctor’s laughter.  _ Oh my! That rather tickles. _

**You see, Grandfather?** There was now a sort of a pale squid sitting in Susan’s chair, and it took Ian and Barbara a moment to realize that Susan had changed as well.  **I told you they would understand.**

_ Quite so, my dear _ . The Doctor shimmered a little, and suddenly the golden cloud was gone, and the old man was back. “Quite so indeed.”


	3. Arkham Teatime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set during the Eighth Doctor Adventure's Earth Arc

The end was at hand. The moment had been prepared for. In the dark cellar under Arkham University’s geology building, dripping red candles gutted and flickered in a wind that should not have been possible in the dark, windowless space. The Brotherhood of the Endless Golden Cosmos stood and swayed, chanting low intonations to the Old Ones as the flickering light caught their ultramarine hoods. Their leader, the self-appointed Hierophant of Nyarlathotep, the Revealer of Dark Truths, _Dave Russell_ , stood before the complex runic circle he had scrawled on the floor in pig’s blood, one hand outstretched and the other grasping a book.

“ _Es’thre Rassil, Es’thre Ohm, Es’thre Autere,_ ” he intoned. _“Ia, Nyarlathotep, Es’thre Gul’fre reg’bra!”_

The wind was howling now, and the faint, dark form of a figure appeared in the center of the circle, vast and distant in the confines of the cellar. The Hierophant’s eyes glowed in the light with triumphant glee. “ _He’e L’geb, Nyarlathotep!_ ” he crowed. “ _He’e L’geb!_ ”

The figure was fully realized, now -- a lanky, shadowy form whose very form seemed to fractalize at the edges, and whose eyes shimmered from one indescribable color to the next, one moment bluer than any earthly sky, the next a shade of green-violet that made all who saw it feel rather queasy. Nyarlathotep surveyed the room with princely detachment. Then, they focused all of their many eyes on the Hierophant. “G̷e̶s̴u̴n̶d̷h̸e̷i̷t̶,” they said.

Dave stalled. He had familiarized himself with the language of the Old Ones for so long -- entire days, now -- but G’sun Teit was not a phrase he was familiar with. He decided to fall back into familiar territory. “ _Ia, Nyarlathotep!”_ he pronounced.

Nyarlathotep tilted their head, and Dave’s mind swam trying to follow the motion. The ancient and omnipotent god opened their mouth again. “W̴o̶u̷l̵d̴ ̸y̷o̵u̴ ̴l̵i̵k̴e̷ ̶a̸ ̴c̸o̵u̵g̸h̶ ̴d̸r̴o̷p̸?̵” they enquired.

Dave’s face fell. “I -- you -- what?”

Nyarlathotep cleared their many throats and thumped themself in the chest once or twice. “I said,” said the Crawling Chaos in a voice like molten chocolate, “Would you like a cough drop?”

There was a long silence. “No,” Dave said. “No, Lord, I would not.”

“Just as well,” said Nyarlathotep. “I seem to have misplaced my coat. Although --” there was a long pause. “Why have I got so many arms? And why am I so large?”

“Are you sure this is the right Nyarlathotep?” murmured Junior Priest Hicks.

It was just the question the Hierophant needed to recover himself. “Sure?” he thundered. “Hicks! Do you doubt the presence of the Old Ones when one stands before the worthless sacks of jelly you call eyes? Do you deny the presence of the divine when it makes your mind whirl? Lord Nyarlathotep, a thousand pardons for my inferior’s slight. Do you will him flogged before you devour him?”

“I’m sure I had skin when I went to bed,” Nyarlathotep muttered. “Hm? Oh, all’s forgiven, all’s forgiven.”

There was another long pause as Nyarlathotep turned in a slow circle, their gaze seeming to seep into every nook and cranny of the room. “Have you seen,” they said pensively, “A blue crate anywhere around here? It’s about yay high, yay long, yay temporal…” they trailed off, still making complex gestures with their many incomprehensible limbs. “That would be a ‘no’, would it?”

“O Great Nyarlathotep,” Dave tried again. “We have summoned you that you do our bidding.”

Nyarlathotep looked at him oddly, then down at the floor. Their body spasmed unpleasantly, and a strong sense of disgust filled the air. “Poor creature,” Nyarlathotep said sadly. “It didn’t have a happy life, did it?”

“Who cares about the happiness of a pig?” Dave demanded, his patience finally worn through. “Look, if you want to ever leave this cellar, I suggest you start cooperating. We want to rule this planet, we want immortality, we want --”

The door at the top of the stairs opened, casting a shaft of light into the dismal cellar. All of the assembled looked up at where a shapeless, shadowed figure stood at the threshold. Then she flicked on the lights.

“Coo-ee!” she said, waving cheerfully at the Brotherhood and Nyarlathotep. “Fancy meetin’ you lot down here this time of night.” 

“Begone, foul hag!” Dave said, realizing too late that he really didn’t have the gravitas to pull off a line like that under full lighting.

“Well, that’s a nice welcome, I must say,” said the woman, tottering down the steps in high heels. She was an older woman, dressed outrageously in a violet dress and a faux-leopard shawl. She wore an enormous black hat, decked out with long peacock feathers and little red flowers. “I brought tea,” she added once she had reached the bottom of the stairs, nodding at the cart ~~that couldn’t possibly have come down those stone steps without creating a godawful clatter~~.

“Tea?” one of the Brothers asked, perplexed.

“One lump or two, dearie?” the woman asked.

“We don’t want tea,” Dave said, realizing that he was sounding increasingly petulant.

The woman clicked her tongue at him. “Maybe _you_ don’t,” she said. “But what about this lot? Standin’ ‘round chantin’ is murder on the throat, as I found out the hard way out on Karn.”

She held a teacup in one hand, pouring tea into it with her other hand and gin with ~~a third~~ her other hand.

Tentatively, the Brotherhood began to congregate around the cart. The woman never seemed to run out of cups. After a few minutes, she peered over the crowd. “Hoi, big fella!” she called. “How d’you take it, petal?”

“Cream, ten sugars,” said Nyarlathotep, stepping to the edge of the circle. They let out a small shriek, like the death of stars, as the protective runes activated. 

For just a moment, the woman’s face darkened, and her eyes glimmered with strange colors and abject outrage. But then she was all smiles again as she navigated the tea cart through the crowd of blue-robed students. “Never mind that,” she said. “Here, I’ll bring it to you!”

Dave, sensing that this might be his last chance to regain some kind of control of the situation, darted in front of her. “You dare to interrupt the rites of summoning?” he attempted to boom. “Nyarlathotep, destroy this defiler! Turn her inside out and make her dance for our amusement!”

There was a long silence. “Oh, do you mean me?” Nyarlathotep asked.

“I don’t think much of your amusements, boyo,” the woman said sharply. She glowered at the pig’s blood on the floor. “And your housekeeping leaves something to be desired, as well.”

Dave was shaking with fury now. “You defy me?” he demanded. “Then I will activate the rune-sequence of Kaa’fa Raq Ga-Ti! _Ashad’a ba Gra’chk --_ ”

He cut himself off abruptly with a shriek as a pot of steaming tea was splashed over the back of his neck. “Osh-kosh B’gosh to you too!” the woman said with a snort, throwing her bottle of gin into the circle. It smashed and splashed across the runes, distorting and dissolving them. The world seemed to shimmer for a moment, becoming little more than abstract shapes and colors. Then the lights blew.

When someone finally managed to relight the candles, the woman, the tea cart, and Nyarlathotep had all vanished. The only evidence that anything at all had happened was Dave, tea-soaked and shaking with fury.

* * *

“That felt… unpleasant,” said Nyarlathotep, shaking out their many long limbs. “What did you do to me?”

“Piloted you,” said the woman briefly. “Back to where you were standing in space and time before no-mates back there decided to be clever with eldritch summonings.”

“Piloted?” Nyarlathotep shook their head. “Like a Ship? It felt rather… unpleasant.”

“Now you know how that army-surplus girl felt,” the woman said, tilting her chin up. “What was her name? Empathy? Kindness? Something ironic like that.”

“...Who?” Nyarlathotep asked plainly. “Who is that? Do I know her? You seem like you know things -- tell me, please, I’ve been so alone --”

“Oh, dearie,” said the woman, gently taking one of their long and spindly hands in both of hers and holding it. “You have been right through the wringer, eh? Poor little blighter, alone in the world, not even remembering who you are…”

“How do you know so much about me?” Nyarlathotep asked. “Who -- what are you?”

The woman gave him a sad smile and shook her head. “No use sayin’,” she said. “You’d only forget anyway. Talkin’ of…”

The old woman’s form shivered and flickered, and Nyarlathotep Saw, for a moment, an enormous, monstrous black goat with three pairs of onyx horns on her head, saw a hundred glowing golden eyes with rectangular pupils fix upon him, saw her untold thousands of young reflecting off into the distance.

She was, they distantly realized, still wearing her leopard-print shawl and shapeless red hat.

They blinked again. “I beg your pardon,” said the Doctor. “What were you saying? I was in another world for a moment, there…”

The old woman shook her head, smiling broadly at them. “It’ll be alright, chook,” she said, patting their hand. “You’ll get through alright, in the end. Trust your ol’ Auntie, eh?”

The Doctor watched her rise from the bench and hurry off down the road toward a big red bus. Their head was spinning, fractured thoughts scratching painfully at the inside of their skull. They ran their fingers through their curly brown locks and pressed the heels of their palms against their eyes for a long moment, trying to clear their mind, but when they looked up again, the woman and the bus were both gone.

They had the horrible feeling that they were forgetting even more than usual. They glanced down at the blue crate next to them and patted it absently. “I don’t suppose _you_ know anything about this, hm?”

For a moment, the Doctor could have sworn he felt it purr. But the moment quickly passed.


End file.
